Burned

From his seat in the Senate Labor Committee hearing room, pudgy Albert C. (for Cummins) Beeson arose, puffed out his chest and, in carefully rehearsed tones, announced: "We are quibbling while Rome burns." He was wrong; the smoke came from some of Beeson's burning bridges.

As a Republican appointee to the National Labor Relations Board, Beeson came to Washington with a long and respected record as a company representative in labor-management relations. But with the very first question asked him in committee hearings, Beeson showed that his wisdom was no burden on his tongue. Yes, said Beeson, he had once lectured on economics at Rutgers. That answer would have sufficed, but Beeson rambled on: "I was frankly there to try to explain the American enterprise system from the businessman's viewpoint." Asked the C.I.O.'s James Carey, a later witness: Would not Beeson also administer the Taft-Hartley law from a "businessman's viewpoint?" Despite strong opposition from labor leaders (truculent John L. Lewis called him "Union-Buster Beeson"), the committee approved Beeson's nomination by a 7 (all Republicans) to 6 (all Democrats) vote.

Then it was learned that 1) Beeson was merely taking leave of absence as industrial-relations director of the Food Machinery and Chemical Corp. and expected to return there after one year on the NLRB, and 2) he stood to get a pension from the company. Since this raised an obvious conflict-of-interests issue (Beeson was still technically in the employ of a company that could be affected by his NLRB votes), further committee hearings were called. When he got up to play out his Rome-burning scenario, Beeson promised to resign outright from the company and to renounce its contributions to his pension (adding up to $4,424). Said he: "My wife and I are glad to make that sacrifice if it would make the men on the Democratic side happier."

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